Bucky shuts his eyes again, as if that will ease the nausea pain rocking his system. He doesn't need to see Sam to know he's there; they're intertwined more than ever. Moving sounds like a terrible idea. Despite the smell, despite being soaked in sweat, blood, and vomit he doesn't want to move. His chest burns with every inhale and is met with a fresh burst of pain on every exhale, just below his sternum. He remembers the skeleton in the water punching him in the chest.

But there's no way that could have been real.

He opens his mouth to say something, to respond, but all that comes out is a croak and more blood dribbling down his chin.